Jesse hoofed it to where Brennan was lounging, the elemental's feet propped casually up on a rock, trying to pretend that the ground was comfortable. As Jesse came into view he waved a leisurely hand in the molecular's direction. "Going my way? Where's the limo?"

A snort was the reply, and Jesse extended a hand to pull Brennan to his feet. "You had to let Shalimar get all the way out here? This is the middle of nowhere."

"Who was it that told Adam to have me go along with her?" Brennan retorted. "Payback, bro. Payback." He looked around. "Where's the car? You said Shal was two miles away half an hour ago, and she's probably doubled that by now."

"Where do you think? You and Shal took the Jeep and left me with Miata. There isn't more than three inches of clearance on that baby, Brennan. You think I'm going to ram it along trails filled with rocks?"

Brennan winced. "Okay, point taken. Far?"

"I left it a mile back, where the dirt road turned into no road. Here," Jesse indicated the trank gun and a smallish scanner on his back. "I toted this stuff out here. At least you can help with the carrying." He handed the trank gun over and pulled out the scanner, turning it on and waiting impatiently for the green screen to tell him what he wanted to know. "Hah. Got her on the first try. She's not too far from here; she must be doubling back." He grinned. "See that? Shalimar knew I was coming, and decided to make it easy on us. Must be my boyish charm."

"When you get some, let me know." Brennan unlimbered the trank gun and loaded in the tranquilizer dart. "One of these should do the trick?"

Jesse shrugged. "Adam wasn't too clear on that. Said he thought so, but to feel free to give her a second dose. Three would be too much, though." He cocked his head. "What if she's back to normal?"

Brennan considered. "I suppose we'd have to let her come back on her own and stay with us. But I'm really gonna miss not being able to shoot her. How often do you get to shoot a teammate, live to tell about it, and then have her thank you for doing it?"

"We should be seeing her any moment," Jesse announced, staring at the screen of the scanner. "Coming over that hill in five, four, three…"

Brennan turned and waved. "Hey, Shalimar! Over here." As if the feral didn't know where they were. Shalimar waved back, acknowledging their whereabouts. Brennan turned back to Jesse, going for disappointed. "She seems back to normal." And, casually, while they were waiting for Shalimar to reach them: "Adam figure out what's wrong?"

Jesse shrugged, apparently forgetting their bet. "Not sure. Didn't really seem like it. Nothing that popped up in my computer search seemed to fit the bill. But he's been poking at Emma. She thinks she may have a lead."

"Emma?" Brennan didn't expect that. "Adam thinks Shalimar is just plain crazy? I don't buy that, Jess."

"If you have a better suggestion, let's hear it. Hey, Shal," Jesse greeted the feral as she trotted up. Not even out of breath, Brennan noted sourly. Maybe glowing a little with perspiration, but it was summer after all. He glanced skyward; there were a few threatening clouds moving in from the west. Good thing Shalimar came back now, or a soaking would become a very real possibility. And, as an elemental with an affinity for electricity and a certain allergy to short circuits… Well, let's just say it's a good thing Shalimar came in on her own. And we'll leave it at that.

"Hey, Jess," Shalimar returned, looking a bit sheepish. "Brennan, I'm sorry. I guess I got carried away." She noticed the trank gun in Brennan's arms. "Uh, you were getting serious, weren't you? I wasn't gone all that long."

"Adam's orders, Shal." Jesse stepped in. "He wants you back in Sanctuary. You weren't responding to your comm. link."

"He's got a lead?" Hopeful.

"Maybe. He and Emma are working on something."

"Emma!" Shalimar took a step back, suddenly alarmed. "What's Emma got to do with this?"

Jesse shrugged, trying for the right amount of nonchalance. "Beats me. What say we head back and find out?"

"What say we don't?" Shalimar shot back.

"Look, Shalimar," Brennan said, forcing himself to stay calm because it was clear that Shalimar wasn't. She was on an upward spiral. "You know that something's not right with you. You've said it yourself. Come back with us; let's solve this thing together."

"Stay away from me!" Shalimar demanded. Her eyes shot yellow, feral wildness coming in to take over. She took another step backward.

This was so not good. Brennan swung the trank gun around to where he could aim it. Win-win situation: either Shalimar would surrender peacefully and he could put the gun down, or she'd run in which case Brennan would feel perfectly justified in shooting her on the fly. "Shal, you know that's your mutant side talking. Come back so that Adam can help you. And Emma. And Jess and me. We all care about you."

Mistake. Any sensible feral would make a beeline straight away and as far away as she could get. Brennan wouldn't have put it past her to be able to dodge the tranquilizer dart. But that wasn't what Shalimar did.

Instead, she jumped straight for him, knocking the trank gun out of Brennan's hands. It was not what Brennan expected. It wasn't sane. But it worked: the gun went flying, the trigger jolted when the butt of the gun hit the ground. The dart flew straight up into the air and returned to earth to successfully sedate a nearby bush.

Having accomplished her objective—disarming her former teammates—Shalimar then proceeded to demonstrate that even after a five mile hike on a mountain top, she could still outrun both Brennan and Jesse. Jesse tried for another bear hug, intending to phase solid to prevent her from beating him to a messy pulp, but she never allowed him to get close. The trank gun was useless; by the time they could get it re-loaded, Shalimar was long gone.

Jesse looked at Brennan. "That went well."

Brennan rubbed the knuckles on his hand, ruefully surveying the missing skin. "How do you figure that?"

Jesse grinned crookedly. "We're alive." He picked up his scanner and turned it back on, tossing the trank gun to Brennan who plucked it out of the air. "C'mon, Sparky. Let's go hunting."

Adam was not in control, and he didn't like it. This was a problem where all of his computers, his technology, even the genetic science that he was so knowledgeable of was turning out to be all but worthless.

Instead he got to watch Emma sit and think. Well, not think exactly. More like 'feel'. Emma was an empath, able to sense feelings and emotions rather than thoughts. Which was what she was doing at the moment, casting around for the origin of the feelings that were aimed at Shalimar. Incense was strong in her room, and the furnishings designed to help her concentrate on her craft. It felt totally foreign to Adam, at the other end of the scientific spectrum. He watched her do what to the non-psychic eye looked like nothing. Like she was taking a nap in an uncomfortable lotus position.

Adam couldn't help but feel that this was a psychic attack. All of his lab results were coming back negative, which meant that the cause was something outside of Shalimar's body: another mutant. It all made sense to him: the mutant doing the attacking was clearly thinking of Adam, was aiming the attack through Shalimar in the only way that he or she knew how: psychic battle. The assault had been subtle at first; even Jesse had commented on Shalimar's increased aggressiveness during their practice bouts but it had become obvious to them all when they thought that Shalimar was losing control over her feral nature. Adam stepped in to try to cure her through conventional genetics. He failed, because the cause wasn't genetic. Or, rather, it was but not Shalimar's genes. It was the genes of another unknown mutant.

"Not unknown," Adam had corrected Emma eagerly. "I think you were right in the first place: it's another psionic. You got the picture of me from that mutant's head. They must know me from somewhere. That's the only explanation that makes any sense, that narrows it down to a mere ten thousand or so."

"Not as many as all that," Emma reproved. She wasn't convinced that the cause was another psionic, but if Adam wanted her to look, then she was all for it. Her own last foray into the psychic overworld had come up as empty as Adam's lab results. At least this request meant that she could do something, even if it were hopeless. "If it's a psionic, it's a fairly powerful one." She ticked the points off on her fingers. "Also, they have to know Shalimar enough to be able to insert psychic fingers into her mind. And they have to be able to do it delicately enough so that I wouldn't go looking for them until it was too late. That suggests a certain skill level, Adam. Can't you run a computer search to narrow the possible list down?" she asked, knowing full well that a task such as that would be child's play for the scientist. But it would give him something to do beyond pace back and forth, watching her search the psychic airwaves. And having her mentor scrutinizing every eye blink that she did was interfering with Emma's own work. His broadcasting of emotions was blocking any other psionic touches that she needed to locate.

Adam had brightened, and gone immediately to his computer and multitude of data banks. Five minutes later it had spit out three possibles, pictures and all, which Adam gleefully handed to Emma.

Which left them back at square one: Adam staring at Emma. Oh, well. At least it was a short break from the eyeballs.

Sighing, Emma picked up the first picture and squinted, trying to touch the mind represented by the photograph. She concentrated on the name: Miriam Schweltzer, knowing that even more than sight, a person's identity was bound up in their name. It was the last thing to go as the mind deteriorated and the piece the most difficult to cover up. When Shalimar tracked, she went by the scent of her prey. When Emma did the same thing, she searched for the feel of the name.

She got an impression of winging over a vast distance, that this Miriam lived very far away. Tremendous unhappiness, but it was over a relationship. Miriam felt anger, confusion, humiliation, even sexual tension—but nothing that suggested that either Adam or Shalimar was involved. Although the feelings were recent, perhaps even lingering on right now, today. Emma delved a bit deeper, checking and re-affirming the emotions. This was far from an exact science, and Emma had learned through experience to verify what she sensed. And what she sensed at the moment said very clearly that Adam and Shalimar were not the targets of Miriam's anger.

Still, she had to make sure: "Adam, did you ever have an affair with Miriam?"

"What?" Adam colored.

"An affair. A date. Any reason to think that Miriam Schweltzer was romantically involved with you? Even a one-sided involvement that you or she didn't encourage?"

"No." Bald, and to the point. Discouraging of any further exploration. Emma pointed that out.

Adam's flush deepened. "No, Emma. Not possible."

"Why not?"

Adam gritted his teeth. "Because Miriam was a paraplegic, paralyzed from the waist down in an operation gone wrong. She was brought to me hoping that I could do something for her. I couldn't help her body to function, but I did help her to realize her psionic potential. She moved on several years ago, shortly after Shalimar arrived."

"Adam, people paralyzed at the waist can still have healthy romantic relationships. Did she have one with you? Healthy or unhealthy?"

"Miriam wasn't ready for that. She was still angry at the people who had put her into the wheelchair. That was the problem. People with injuries like that are generally angry but Miriam, with her psionic abilities, was literally impossible to be around. People would fly into rages, exhibit signs of pathological depression; we even had one technician experience a complete psychotic break with reality. That kept on going until I was able to help her learn to shield her emotions from others, just as I did for you." Adam grinned crookedly. "A lot of what I learned from Miriam, I gave to you."

Emma nodded slowly. When she first came to Sanctuary, she had been a mess herself and at the time too hurt to even ask how it was that Adam had learned how to help her. This explained a lot. "Was Miriam angry at you?"

"At first, yes. She was angry at the world. It's common with an injury such as that."

"And later—?'

Adam shrugged. "Miriam was a smart woman. She wanted to try to go for her own advanced degree in genetics. But she had two strikes against her: her disability and, more importantly, her mutation. Eckhart had just taken over Genomex, I had recently escaped by the skin of my teeth, and Genomex would have swooped down on her like a hawk. I convinced her to head for the underground just before I left. Last I heard, she was on the other coast, living in a commune and making pottery and doing marriage counseling on the side." He grimaced. "And yes, at first, I think she did have a misguided crush. It's common among patients in that sort of condition. I did nothing to encourage it, and she grew out of it and moved on. Is she still angry? I wouldn't be surprised. Her own mutation robbed her any chance she had for studying genetics. But as far as I know, she's not angry at me."

Emma gave up. "Okay, how about this one?"

Adam peered at the name. "Chuck Hendrickson? Not a chance this is our guy, Emma. Most likeable guy I've ever met." He grinned, the mere memory demonstrating that there couldn't be any animosity. "Go ahead and see if you can touch his head, but it won't be him. Had a lot of psionic potential, but there's no way it's him."

"Why not?" Emma wanted to know.

But Adam wouldn't give her an answer. "Just see if you can touch his feelings," he urged with a crooked smile. "You'll see what I mean."

Amusement was the feeling strongest in Adam's thoughts, and that went along with his attitude. Puzzled, she picked up the photograph of the psionic and, fixing the head shot in her mind, cast out among the upper planes for her target.

It didn't take long to find him, and, just as amusement had been uppermost in her mentor's mind, so it was in Chuck Hendrickson. And laughter. And giddiness, along with a side helping of silly. It was impossible not to like the guy, and Emma wasn't anywhere near him.

She understood. Chuck Hendrickson was an empath like herself but instead of both receiving and sending, Chuck could only send emotions. And he could only send one emotion: happiness. He was an instant dose of Prozac, the eternal upper, the guy who could literally light up a room with his mere presence. He could sell ice cubes to Eskimos, for they would be eager to do anything to please him.

This was clearly not who they were searching for. This man had nothing against either Adam or Shalimar; he was one mutant that no one could dislike. It simply wasn't possible. All the man had to do was to turn on his charm, and people would fall over themselves to do what he wanted. If he had wanted Shalimar, he could simply go after her. Even Adam would do whatever Chuck Hendrickson wanted. This mutant had no reason to be angry at anyone because it was impossible not to try to please him. Thank goodness he's not evil, Emma thought. Even I would have trouble taking him down. I don't think I could bring myself to do the deed. He's simply too likeable!

A very powerful mutant, and potentially a dangerous one, but not who they were looking for. Emma opened her eyes and handed the photo back to Adam. "You were right, Adam. He's not the one."

"Which leaves Yves-Jacques St. Legere." Adam picked up the last photo. This one was of a young boy, wide and scared brown eyes looking at the camera.

"A big name for a little boy," was Emma's opinion. Her head had started pounding again; would it ever stop?

Adam chuckled. "He's probably grown into it by now. This picture is a few years old. Y.J. would be about fifteen by now, and his genetic scan suggested that he would end up as tall as Brennan. Cute kid, but with a hard life. Mother was a prescription drug addict and finally over-dosed just shortly after this picture was taken. Father made a fortune in the industry and was busy gambling away his earnings and paying little attention to his one and only son. There probably won't be much left when Y.J. comes of age."

"And he's a psionic," Emma prompted, starting to feel dizzy and wondering how long she could cover it up. Adam had enough to worry about. She needed to rest before starting out again into the Overworld, but Shalimar needed her now…

"Right. I had him here at Sanctuary a couple of years before you arrived, Emma. I even toyed with the idea of putting him on the team. I've known all along that we needed a psionic to round things out."

"Why didn't you?"

Adam sighed. "The easy answer is that he was too young. Y.J. was twelve, almost thirteen, going through puberty with powers that were erratic: through the roof one day and practically non-existent the next. I worked with him, gave him training exercises to help him learn to control his powers. He was another empath, like you, Emma. He could project better than receive, but I think that was a matter of youthfulness."

"And—?" Emma pushed. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate. The pain in her temples made her want to simply lie down and go to sleep.

Adam shrugged. "He worked diligently at controlling his powers, practiced every chance he could get. Then his father took him away. I think he saw an opportunity to use Y.J. and his abilities in gambling. There was nothing I could do. Legally his father was his guardian, and going to court to plead for custody on the basis of genetic powers is not something that will go over well with any judge. And Y.J. was clinging to his father at that point; the boy's mother had just died. The father was all Y.J. had left for a family. His father won, I lost, even before a battle could begin." He smiled warmly at Emma. "Far from being a catastrophe. It allowed me to find you. I'd say that more than makes up for the loss of Y.J."

Emma fixed her mentor with a discerning eye. "That's not all, Adam."

"What—?" Adam had the grace not to go any further. His face fell. "Stop reading my thoughts."

"You know I can't do that, Adam. I only sense feelings, and you're broadcasting louder than that awful punk rock band that Brennan likes. You feel guilty about Y.J. There was something wrong." She cocked her head, analyzing the emotions that were emitting from her mentor. "And you weren't really all that sorry to see Y.J. leave. Why?"

The shoulders slumped. "There was no proof. Shalimar didn't like him all that much, but I thought it was just a teen-age phase. Y.J. was younger than Shalimar as well, had a crush on her, and she didn't have any use for him. There was no proof that Y.J. was involved with anything."

"There rarely is with empaths. What did he do? What did Shal think he did?"

"I was never certain." Adam looked back up, seeking solace for himself in whatever fashion he could. "Jesse had arrived just a few months before. He was in pretty bad shape at that point; Eckhart's people had been doing a lot of 'testing' on him. The nightmares had just started to go away when Y.J. arrived. The two formed an immediate bond over Sanctuary's computers. I forget which games they got into, but they linked up as a cyber-team to beat the various levels of every game. I think they went through the first one in a month, and the second even faster. But after being around Y.J. for three months, the nightmares came back."

"You think Y.J. was manipulating Jesse's dreams."

"There was no proof," Adam repeated, mostly to reassure himself. "But the nightmares vanished for good after Y.J. left. It was just coincidence."

"What did Y.J. have against Jesse?"

"That's just it: nothing. They both liked computers, and they used to play video games after hours. They liked each other, even though Y.J. was a few years younger. Jesse used to say that age didn't matter when you were online. There was no reason to think that Y.J. was tormenting Jesse at night. In fact, having Y.J. around was good for Jesse. Jesse got to be an 'older brother' for a change, someone in control. That was important for Jesse's self image at the time."

"Bottom line, you don't want Y.J. to be the culprit here, even though you're afraid that he is." Emma settled herself back into a lotus position. "Instead of wasting time, let's find out." She closed her eyes.

With the picture in her hand and Adam's own thoughts to guide her, finding the boy was literally child's play. What she found, however, was no child.

Anger radiated from Y.J. even before she came close. It was anger, coupled with the agony of grief and loss. Instinctively she knew that Y.J. had just become an orphan. He had no one left in the world as of a mere few days ago. She delved further, careful to stay away from the 'private' areas of the boy's mind. Only the public parts, the parts that were broadcasting, were legitimate targets. And in a fifteen year old boy, there were plenty of those.

There was a multitude of emotions to be found inside of Yves-Jacques St. Legere: the thrill of victory when Y.J.'s father had, as Adam had suspected, used the boy to cheat at cards, reading the emotions of the other poker players in order to tell who was bluffing and who had a solid hand to bet with.

But it went further than that, further than even Y.J.'s father knew: Y.J. would use his abilities to cause even solid poker players to make poor bets. The stack of coins at each game would rise dramatically at the end due to Y.J.'s manipulation. And part of that stack would usually end up in Y.J.'s own hoard, safe from his father. It was a cold and sullen triumph that colored Y.J.'s emotions, the need to be able to live without others, not to depend on anyone else. That was the reason for the boy's hidden stash. Not an unexpected reaction, Emma thought. If she'd grown up with a grasping parent, eager to use her own powers for their selfish ends, Emma would have behaved in the same fashion.

But there was more: Y.J. had no problem with walking up to rich old ladies and 'manipulating' them into giving him large sums of money. Usually there would be some sort of task, walking the poodle or carrying groceries. But the 'reward' would be exorbitant. And the money would end up safe from the senior St. Legere's greedy betting ways, and into Y.J.'s hoard.

This was not a pleasant young man, certainly not the youngster that Adam remembered. This was a boy who had grown into a punk who was accustomed to getting his own way in whatever fashion he needed to. If this boy had not had his mutant abilities, Emma was certain, he would have ended up in a local gang dealing drugs. And, most likely, dying of it.

Emma considered. If she went further, delved deeper into Y.J.'s mind, she would be able to determine once and for all if this boy was responsible for Shalimar's condition. But that was going beyond the boundaries of etiquette; she would be as bad as Y.J. himself. There was no thought of Adam or of Shalimar, no thought of Mutant X or Sanctuary. And, try as she might, Emma couldn't convince herself that the tendril of thought that she'd retrieved from Shalimar's mind was definitely from Y.J. Her gut said yes, but her mind—where it counted—wasn't sure.

Rock and a hard place. What to do? Emma thought of her own moral upbringing, her own set of values. Could she violate another's mind without clear evidence of guilt? All she had was a tendril of suspicion, a hint that someone, somewhere, was doing evil to Shalimar and, by proxy, to Mutant X. Emma decided that she couldn't probe Y.J. any further. She surfaced.

"Emma?" Adam looked worried. "Emma, you were gone a long time. Are you all right?"

"Of course I am," Emma started to say, when she realized that standing up would be a problem. She allowed Adam to lay her back on her bed, wishing the room would stop swirling around. He administered a sip of cold water; it helped to ground her.

"What did you find out?"

The shivering started. Emma hated that, hated when it happened because it always meant that she had been 'out' too long. Her body rebelled against that. She tried to still her hands, grasped the cup of water more firmly to pretend that it wasn't happening.

Adam wasn't fooled. "How far did you go?" he demanded. "Emma, you were 'gone' for almost an hour!"

An hour? Emma blinked. It was impossible to keep track of time 'out there'. No wonder she felt so wrung out, and Adam so upset. Normally she tried to keep it down to a moment or two, a brief flash of a feeling. But this had been far more important, Y.J.'s emotions far more complex. Yet she felt as though she had barely touched the surface.

"Sorry," she muttered, covering her weakness by taking another sip.

Adam wasn't fooled, replaced the water with something stronger, something with replacement fluids and electrolytes as if she had run a marathon. Emma drank it thirstily, her body automatically craving the energy. It worked: her hands stopped shaking.

Adam sat back, only partly satisfied. "Now, what happened? Did you find Y.J.?"

Emma nodded, not sure if she should trust her voice.

"And?"

Emma frowned. "To be honest, I'm not sure, Adam. I couldn't get deep enough. He's well shielded."

"So it could be him."

"I'm not sure," Emma repeated thoughtfully. "Adam, his father just died. That much I could tell. He's hurt, and grieving. But he's also very angry, and I'm not sure at who. He ought to be angry at his father for dying and leaving him—that would be usual, especially in someone his age—but that just didn't feel like the right answer. And I couldn't risk going in any further, not without him knowing that I was there, and I didn't have enough to go on to try that. One thing I do know: I didn't pick up any trace of thinking about you or Shalimar. No mutants at all." She carefully didn't mention the other parts she'd found, the cunning that Y.J. had developed, the schemes that he'd run at other peoples' expense. Adam had enough guilt; he didn't need this particular mutant added to his list of sins. Better to concentrate on Shalimar.

Adam nodded. "Back to square one." He sighed. "If it's not a psionic, then it has to be Shalimar's genes, something I've overlooked." He looked at Emma, frowning. "You need some rest, young lady. In fact, you need a lot of rest."

"I'm all right," Emma lied, her head pounding.

Adam wasn't fooled. "Sleep now, or I'll get the same sedative that I gave to Shalimar," he threatened. "I'll take it from here. You've done your part; you've checked out any possible mutant that could be doing this to Shalimar. Now rest. I'll contact the guys," Adam told her. He tapped at the computer console, networking into the mainframe to open the communication grid. "Brennan? Jesse?"

"Right here, Adam," came back Jesse's voice almost immediately. "You got something? Like a cure, maybe?"

"Still working on it." They could hear the pain in the scientist's voice at not yet being successful to help the feral. "You get Shalimar back?"

"Still working on it." The mimicry was deliberate, but there was no laughter. "Almost had her, but she got antsy and bolted before we could trank her. We're tracking her now."

"It's weird, Adam." Brennan put his two cents in. "One minute she's as calm and polite as you please. The next she's ready to turn on us. You never know what's going to set her off. Listen, I've seen lions with better dispositions. Safer, too."

"Be careful," Adam warned. "Next time you get close to her, don't even try to talk. Just shoot her with the tranquilizer dart, and let us sort it out back here in Sanctuary. You can't help her by trying to talk her down. This is not Shalimar. Her mutant genes are doing this to her."

"You got that right. Believe me, Adam, the tranks are ready and waiting. Out."

Adam sat back into the chair and regarded Emma. She mustered a game smile. "I can hone in on Shalimar and see if there's—"

"No," Adam interrupted. "Not yet. You need to recover your strength. Give yourself a few hours rest, then we'll see. I don't want you attempting anything more until I give you the okay. I still think you have a concussion."

"No, I don't."

"Let me prove it. I'll get my medical kit."

Emma sank back onto the bed, beaten. "Okay. You win. I'll rest. But wake me in an hour. That should be enough time."

Adam smiled sternly. "If I see the whites of your eyes in less than eight hours, I'm coming with the leftover tranquilizers."

Brennan turned to Jesse. "You notice he didn't mention Emma."

"Right. He always does that when he has her doing something that he thinks we won't approve of. Something dangerous, usually, involving psionics. Which makes sense to me. If Adam can't find anything, then it has to be another mutant doing this to Shalimar."

"Unless Shalimar is really going crazy. Not mutant crazy, but honest-to-Bedlam I-need-my-lithium crazy."

"You think she really could? And not have us notice something before this?"

Brennan sighed. "Probably not." He sighed again. "Gotta be another mutant. Think we ought to head back?"

Jesse considered. "Nope. Not without Shalimar. Whatever it is, whoever it is, Emma is in the thick of it, and won't let us touch. She'll just give us the 'only I can do this' routine, nearly blow up all of Sanctuary, and everything will turn out all right. Maybe if we stay out here we won't get caught in the fall out."

Brennan simply looked at him. "You believe that load of crap?"

"No. But can you think of a better way to handle it?"

"Yeah. We can get Shalimar and haul her back to Sanctuary."

"Okay. Sounds good to me." Jesse turned the scanner back on. "Looks like she's not more than a mile up ahead." He pointed. "After you."

Brennan sniffed. "Let's try this the easy way."

"There's an easy way? Why didn't we try that first?"

Brennan ignored the quip, and lifted his hand to his face. "Shalimar?" he said into the comm. link. "Shal, you there?"

"Brennan?" She sounded confused, and not a little frightened.

"Shalimar, where are you?"

"Brennan, what's going on?" Definitely confused, and losing ground fast. Brennan realized that getting his team mate back to a secure area was taking on a new and higher level of priority. No matter what the cause, Shalimar needed their help.

"Shalimar, you've been sick. Your mutation is getting out of control. Tell us where you are so that we can come help you," he pleaded.

"I'm not sure where I am."

That was clearly not a good sign. Shalimar, not knowing where she was outside? That was unthinkable. Shalimar had an unbeatable sense of direction.

Brennan exchanged glances with Jesse, who bent once again to his scanner. "Then stay where you are," he said into the comm. link. "We'll find you. Jesse has his scanner."

"I've got you, Shal," Jesse added reassuringly. "We're not far away. Sit down, and don't go anywhere." He pointed. "This way, Brennan."

"Let's not dawdle," Brennan agreed, and kept up a running line of conversation with Shalimar. "I'm going to assume there are trees where you are, Shal. What else? Any identifying marks we can look for? Big boulders that look like a bear? Big bears that look like boulders?"

"There's a cliff not too far away. Pretty steep."

Brennan exchanged a significant glance with Jesse. "How about you move away from the cliff?" he suggested. "Not too far. Just so that no one will fall over. You know how I am about heights."

"I never knew you had acrophobia," Jesse murmured, his attention on the scanner.

"I don't. But I do have a fear of Shalimar falling off the cliff, or the edge giving way while she or I am near it, while she's in this condition. You heard her, bro; her mind is definitely being affected by this thing, whatever it is."

"Got it." Jesse slung the scanner back over his back, and they started off at a fast jog toward their team mate. There was no time to waste.